


Even Wolves May Smile

by fraxiinus



Category: Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Growing Up Together, Implied Relationships, Loki Escapes in Between Avengers and TDW, M/M, Mature for Violence and Blood, mentions of the avengers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 05:12:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1375033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fraxiinus/pseuds/fraxiinus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki made Thor exactly three promises in their lifetimes. The first two brought him back to his brother. The last took him away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even Wolves May Smile

i.

The first time Loki makes a promise to Thor, they are but children, playing in Frigga’s garden with a carefree innocence that seemed like it could never possibly end.

They had spent the day together, as they did many, running around the golden halls of Asgard. They ducked in and out of rooms, under the feet of dignitaries there for political business and had finally, after much shooing from their mother, ended up in the tranquil gardens where they were free to roam without disturbing too much of the peace.

It was days like this that Thor enjoyed the most. The responsibilities of learning the history of his people, knowledge that every young prince should have, tired on him, and he often found himself wishing for freedom while he stared out at the golden sun of their kingdom as his tutors droned on. His brother, however, never seemed to mind. Then again, Loki had always been more skilled academically than he was. He picked up concepts easier and was able to memorize information and repeat it back in half the time it took Thor. But, where Thor lacked the mental prowess of his brother, he could, even so young, dominate him physically. 

This is how Thor had managed to finally pin Loki to the ground, the grass of the gardens tall enough to tickle at the sides of his dearest brother’s face. The laugh that resounded through the trees was joyous and triumphant, but still much more high pitched than that of the true Asgardian warriors who’s laughter filled the halls after battle.

“Ha! I told you I would win,” Thor gloated, beaming down at his brother with a smug expression. At their age, the teachings of war were still years away, so it was Loki who was often in favor of their tutors, and it was nice for Thor to be able to best him in something else.

(Little did he know that soon those roles would reverse, and never go back again, and then when he stared at his brother’s defeated face he would be torn in ways he never anticipated). 

“Now you have to go get them.”

He was talking, of course, about sweets from the kitchens. The boys had a bit of a habit of ruining their evening meals by sneaking pastries from the pantries and devouring them in their chambers, a sweet reward for the art of stealth. This had become more difficult, however, once the cooks had figured out their usual strategies. Now it was more of a challenge than anything else, to see how many they could sneak, how fast, and which of the brothers could be caught in the act first.

“If you knew you would win, then why did you challenge me,” Loki complained, rolling his eyes. He pushed at his brother’s side and Thor easily fell into the grass next to him, giving no resistance now that he had earned victory, his smile never leaving.

“If you knew I would win, why did you accept?” he asked in return, looking over.

“Perhaps I thought it would be different this time. Maybe you would make a mistake and I could slip through and pin you for once,” Loki responded, absentmindedly twisting a twig in front of his face that he had picked up from the ground. 

Thor flipped himself over, propping his torso up on his elbows, and looked down at his brother with the faintest trace of pride from his win still on his face, “I don’t make mistakes in combat.”

“You know you shouldn’t say such things, mother will chastise you for it.”

“But it’s true.”

“One day it may not be.”

“Well that day is not today, is it?”

Thor grinned confidentially at Loki until something determined and wicked flashed in his brother’s eyes, and before he could react, Loki had launched himself and pinned Thor to the ground, the triumphant grin upon _his_ face now. Thor struggled, but Loki sat on his stomach and pinned his arms at his sides in an awkward position so he couldn’t get the leverage to knock him off. Thor may be stronger, but they were still young, and relatively the same size, so a good place of balance could still result in Loki winning out.

“Oh, are you sure about that?” Loki mocked from on top of him, a confident look on his own young face, clearly pleased with himself.

“You cheated, I had already won!” Thor complained, still squirming.

“Yes, but you should never take your eyes off the enemy, have you been paying attention to nothing when we’re taught battle history?”

“I’d rather do battle then study it,” Thor grumbled, stopping his struggle to look dejectedly at the grass next to him. The blades tickled his cheek and nose but didn’t brighten his mood, his pout as dramatic as a child’s could be. If he had use of him arms, Loki was sure he would be crossing them.

Loki looked at him for a moment before sighing, letting Thor’s arms go and straightening up, still sitting on his brother’s stomach. “Well, regardless, I suppose you did win the first time, so i’ll go get the pastries.” he stood, Thor suddenly aware of the absence of weight holding him down, like a void, “You should head back to your chambers, I can meet you there when i’ve snuck out.”

Thor sat up and crossed his legs, watching as his brother dusted grass off of his tunic and made sure he didn’t have any twigs or stray blades stuck anywhere. He always seemed so neat, never dirty or mussy like Thor tended to be when he ran around the palace. 

He always thought that was one of the things he liked most about his brother. That even though he was younger, he seemed so much more mature, and he could always get them out of trouble if they got into it, and sometimes, when Thor felt he was in over his head, Loki was there to pull him back up, protect him with his words that could convince any adult around that his darling brother had done nothing wrong. And in exchange, Thor often came to the rescue when Loki's words got him into more trouble than they got him out of. He liked that they were always there for each other in those sorts of ways.

But that does not mean that his brother was without his tricks. Even so young, Loki had a bit of a mischievous side, and their constant competition with each other often resulted in Loki pulling small tricks or pranks on Thor that would sometimes result in a scolding from their father and mother. 

This is why Loki’s quickness to let his secondary victory go made Thor wary of his brothers intentions.

“Wait,” Thor said right as Loki began to walk away, “you aren’t...planning anything, are you?” The look he gave Loki was one of wary caution.

Loki turned back and smiled a smile that Thor knew was the one he used when he was planning something. It was the smile Loki gave right before he would tackle him when they sparred, or start off on a chase, different from his usual smile but not at all refined into something his brother could not still read plain as day. 

“Of course not!” Loki replied, and Thor believed none of it.

He continued to stare at him for a moment, and when Loki turned again to walk away, he quickly got up and grabbed his hand. Loki looked back at him in full this time, his expression surprised. “What is it, Thor?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Promise me you’re coming back.”

“What?”

“Promise me!”

“Thor I already said-”

But then Thor cut him off. “No,” he said, shaking his head, “you said you weren’t planning anything, but you didn’t promise.”

“Does it matter?” Loki looked at him, confused now.

“Yes!” Thor exclaimed, holding his brother’s hand tighter, moving his other hand to grip it as well for emphasis, “words don’t mean much, but you can’t ever break a promise! They’re the most important words there ever were! Mother told me so. When you promise someone something, you have to go through with it, that’s what a promise means! You can’t ever _ever_ break a promise!”

Thor’s voice broke at the last word, a small change in pitch on the last breath, his eyes staring at Loki with a determination that looked completely misplaced on his young face. Loki stared at him for a long moment. Despite his youth, Thor had determination in his features, passion that burned with his words. Odin’s oldest son always did lend himself to dramatic speeches, a trait he learned from the grand stories told by soldiers in the halls after war that Loki was never much for. Thor was squeezing Loki’s hand so hard it was starting to hurt, but the youngest prince said nothing of it. “Alright, Thor, I get it,” he said, dismissive, trying to shake his hand free.

“Promise me,” Thor said, not letting go and looking directly into his brother’s emerald green eyes, “promise me you’re just going to go get them and go right to my chambers. No pranks or running off to the library instead like you did last time. A brother’s promise.”

Thor was looking at him with a serious expression, however his youth betrayed him still. Loki could see how hard he was trying to be an adult, his Thor, always wanting to move forward faster than anyone else, leave youth behind, but he could not run farther than his boyish face could change. After a moment of silence Loki couldn’t help but break into a smile and laugh. His brother could be so dramatic sometimes, but that was one of the things he loved about him. “Alright, alright, I promise I will get the sweets and come right back, and we will eat so many we won’t need food for days.”

To this Thor grinned and then launched himself at his brother, much as Loki did to him earlier, and they fell to the ground, laughing until Loki pushed him off with a short comment about his similarity to domesticated animals, and went to go sneak into the kitchens. Thor ran back to his chambers and waited patiently, eyes trained on the door, and sure enough, Loki did return, arms piled with pastries and tarts in all of their favorite flavors. They devoured their spoils on his bed, caring not for the mess they were making, and laughed long into the night, a laughter that seemed to carry across all of Asgard’s fading sunshine and into the night.

ii.

The second time Loki makes a promise to Thor, they are no longer children, and the carefree days of their youth are behind them.

Thor had filled out greatly over the years, he had gone from a small boy to a strong man. His arms gained definition, his stature became wide, he became everything the son of Odin should be. He had achieved the age of having battle taught to him long ago, and soon surpassed not only his friends, but his earliest teachers. Battle tutors from all of the realms were brought in to teach Asgard’s golden son the ways of war, and he was an absolute natural.

His brother, however, was a different story. Where Thor had become wide, Loki had become long. His limbs grew, his fingers lengthened in ways that made every movement of his hand to conjure seidr look elegant and refined. He was not weak by any measure, his lithe body still rippled with muscle, but his skills were much less obvious than his older brother. Where Thor shone, bright and bold for all to see, Loki gleamed, a small shimmer easily missed if one was not looking. Separate tutors were brought in when it became apparent that the typical styles of Asgardian battle were not suited for him, and Frigga had found the best sorcerers in the realms to continue her teachings when Loki craved more knowledge than his mother could provide.

There were many things different with the boys now that they were older, yet many things stayed the same. Loki still enjoyed his brother’s company, but only when they were not in the halls or around other warriors. His brother lent himself to a boastful persona when around his comrades that Loki would rather avoid, but alone Thor was much like he was in their youth, impatient and overly-eager, but overall tolerable. Thor still adored his brother, filled with pride when Loki would so easily defeat anyone who challenged him with his seidr or his words. 

(And, if Loki’s hips swayed when he confidentially walked away in a manner that caught his brothers eye, well, that was something anyone would notice Thor told himself.)

And those thoughts were not unfounded, because notice the people of Asgard did. The royal princes were of the age where seeing them take a woman to their chambers after meals in the hall, or sneaking around corners late into the night, was expected of them. Of course, in Asgard there were no rules regarding gender, only sexual acts, which was evidenced in the frequency that Loki was seen casting a mischievous eye at the men that graced their halls instead of the women. 

If anyone picked up on the fact that the men Loki took were strong and blonde, and the women that Thor was often seen with were tall, with dark hair, they thought nothing of it, and if they did, they said not a word.

But for the brothers, their intimate relations were of unimportance, a small part of their lives. More often than not, they were entertaining each other in their chambers rather than the people of Asgard who cast lustful eyes at them. It was here, in Loki’s chambers late one night, that Thor burst in, having never felt the need to knock or announce himself after a lifetime of fraternity, and even if he had, the oldest prince’s current anger would have overpowered that need anyway.

“LOKI!” he boomed, his voice so deep it would be hard to believe the heights it used to reach as a child. Thor looked around, his eyes finally locking on the figure reclining in a chair in front of a desk, Loki, halfway through a book, unfazed by his brother’s sudden (but expected) entrance. 

Thor stared at him, gaze fixed, angry, as he stood still in the archway to his brother’s room, each hand still holding a door handle. Loki sighed and looked over his shoulder, regarding Thor with a bored look. “If you’re going to yell, I must insist you at least close the doors.”

Thor did just that, slamming them with force and striding up to his younger brother. He put a hand on the book Loki was reading and slammed it onto the desk, taking place straight in front of him so Loki could not look anywhere else but where he sat, which is just what Loki did. He ran his eyes over his brother’s stomach, his arms, set firm in their position, poised to stop any type of escape, up to his jaw, tight, locked, and finally his eyes, brilliant blue, and angry. Loki smirked.

“And for what do I owe the pleasure of you halting my reading?” he asked, feigning innocence.

“You know damn well why,” Thor replied, short. Loki could feel the anger pouring off of him, almost as much as he could smell the sweat coming from his training clothes, faded now. He’s been someplace after training, and judging by his anger, Loki could guess where. He let his eyes linger on Thor’s face before he let out a halfhearted laugh, managing the feat of looking past his brother’s lumbering frame and out the window next to his seat.

“I see father has told you.”

“He didn’t have to. I found out on the training grounds and only went to him for confirmation.”

“And did he confirm?”

“Loki, when were you going to tell me.”

“He tends to over-exaggerate, you know-”

“Loki.”

“-probably told you that I would be taking on hundreds of demons single-handed, he always does lend himself to boast about his sons-“

“ _Loki._ ”

Thor managed to stop Loki mid-sentence there, his voice commanding enough for Loki to pause and look up at his brother. Thor’s face showed many things. Anger, frustration, but also concern, and if Loki was looking intently (which he told himself he wasn’t) he would be able to see just a hint of hurt and betrayal (which he told himself he didn’t) at the secret kept from him.

Giving in, Loki let down his usual ruse. He had developed just as much of a persona as Thor had now that they were grown, Thor’s the smiling, the jovial warrior who was as carefree as he was kind, Loki’s the quiet, uncaring sorcerer, and one step ahead of everyone around him and happy to be so.

(It would be years before that persona consumed Loki from the inside out, the monster eating the master, but for now it slumbered enough to remain a facade that could be lifted and placed at will.)

“I was going to tell you soon,” he said, answering Thor’s earlier question, his voice earnest, “closer to when I was to leave.”

“So I would not have adequate time to convince you that this quest of yours is a fools errand that will get you killed?” Thor is quick to respond, leaning in closer, which prompts Loki to stand and slip from in front of him. Now that Thor has cooled a bit he lets him pass, and stays seated on Loki’s desk, his eyes never leaving the ever-shifting form of his younger brother.

Loki walks to his bookshelf, plucks a volume at random from the seemingly endless rows of spell and history books, opens it and flips through it lazily. “You really do have no confidence in me, do you Thor?” he asks, his eyes never leaving the book but his tone more accusatory than before. 

“I do!” Thor retorts, insulted, “I know you to be a skilled fighter and sorcerer, I have seen you tangle with some of our largest warriors and come out without a scratch, you know this Loki,” he stands, walks toward where his brother is eying his spells, “but why must you prove yourself on Muspelheim? The fire demons are a dangerously strong race, you would-“

“I would _what_ , Thor?” Loki snaps, closing his book with the same quick sharpness of his tone, causing Thor to pause. “Be burned alive? Be killed? Has it never occurred to you that I could possibly win this battle, hmm?”

Loki’s eyes narrow, he takes a menacing step towards his brother, who steps back in mirror, having not expected this sort of anger from him so suddenly. “You go into every battle you face with such confidence that anyone around you would think you thought yourself immortal, but the moment I step my foot into the fray, suddenly there is no possible way I could achieve victory?” Loki’s voice raises with every step he takes and word he speaks, Thor’s back pressed to a wall now, his brother advancing on him with rage building, “Or are you so inclined to your own self glorification that the idea of your younger brother taking even a moment of glory _repulses_ you?”

“What? _No_!” Thor shouts back, insulted, his own anger now on the rise again at his brother’s accusations, taking a full step forward as Loki takes a half step back, closing some of the distance between them, “I have told you that I know you to be a competent warrior, and I have not lied. But you must see the danger in your quest, brother. The uprising in Muspelheim is no light matter, and if Surtur’s strongest warriors, who have bested even the greatest Argadians, can not qualm it, what makes you believe that you can?”

“You are a fool,” Loki spits back, “Do you honestly think me one as well? Unlike you, I go into battle with a _strategy_ , and one behind that one, and yet another behind it still! I will not be alone, there will be many warriors who _you_ consider _great_ ,” the venom in Loki’s voice at that last word could be tasted in the air, “along side me, if that comforts you into knowing that your little brother will be saved when he eventually fails.”

Thor stops here, his face melding from angry to very serious. He stands up to his full height, only a few inches taller than Loki, but his wide build makes him seem like an impenetrable wall. For a moment, Loki wonders when his brother turned from the boy in the gardens who couldn’t intimidate a fly to the man before him, but Thor’s deep voice brings him back from his momentary contemplation. “I know that you are one of the most cunning people in all of Asgard, that you are my brother, that you are an incredible strategist, and that in our lessons you have always bested me in tactical studies,” he starts, “but I also know that you, too, fall prey to the emotions that you deem so unnecessary, no matter how much you deny that they are there. Charging headfirst into a battle you are not suited for will not garner you more of father’s affection.”

Thor’s face does not shift from the look of seriousness that he had donned, but Loki’s mouth falls open, his retort stalled in his throat. Had he really been so transparent? Is this how _all_ of Asgard sees him, the child brother of Thor the golden son, trying desperately to claw at his father’s robes? Was it obvious? Or was it simply Thor, who knew him better than he knew himself? The shock must have been evident on his face, because Thor’s own face softens, his voice lowers. “This fool understand more than you think,” he said in a hushed tone.

Loki takes a moment to process the new information, silent for a beat longer than usual, and Thor notices. He walks forward, placing a large hand (gods, when did his hands get so _huge_?) on his younger brothers neck, protective, like he had always done since they were young. Loki turns his body fully to face Thor, and studies him. The anger is gone from his face, replaced with worry, and the faintest hint of pleading. From this close Loki can almost still see the remnants of the child inside of Thor showing through his expression, the boy who used to be there. It almost breaks his heart to see it.

(Almost.)

It takes another beat before Loki can garner hold of himself again. The anger in him melted away, an effect Thor has always seemed to have on him, almost as if the hand on his neck was similar to a scruff. “I will be fine, Thor” he says, soft, trying to offer comfort to his clearly distressed brother. 

Thor shakes his head, his tone now matching Loki’s. “You know your strengths, brother,” he almost whispers, their heads so close it would seem inappropriate to use a louder tone, “I know you do. You are more intelligent than any of the scholars that taught us as children, you must know that this is a mistake, I know you wish to prove yourself to father, but Muspelheim will _kill you_.”

On the last words of the sentence his grip tightens on Loki's neck as he gives him a small shake, desperate for the words to sink in, his expression pleading for his brother to see reason. Loki breaths in, holds it for a moment, and lets out a long sigh, mirroring Thor’s stance, putting his own hand on Thor’s broad neck in comfort. 

Thor’s hand covers almost all of the back of Loki’s neck. Loki’s doesn’t even reach the base of Thor’s skull. 

“Brother,” he says slowly, locking eyes with the blond god. They are so close their foreheads touch, “I am not doing this for father. I am doing this for me. I need to prove to myself that I can do this, that I am not the weakling that Asgard believes me to be,” his voice lowers to barely a whisper, his eyes turn downcast, “surely you are aware of what people say.”

Thor lowers his gaze as well, because as much as he doesn’t want to say it out loud, Loki is right. He squashes the whispers when he hears them, but even he can not get to everyone in Asgard. Loki has never been in the people’s favor. Respected, yes, but they still speak of him as if he is a burden on the royal family. That it was a shame Odin could not have had two sons like Thor, sad that one of Asgard’s princes lowered himself to women’s craft. It has always made Thor angry, the way his people can not appreciate Loki’s majesty, his beauty, his power, as he himself could.

“Ive spent months on my strategy, trained with my warriors,” Loki continues, and Thor wonders how he has been so absent that he has not noticed, “I talked over my plan with father, he thinks it will work. He gave his blessing for me to lead the force. Thor…I have to do this. I need you to trust me.”

“Loki-“

“Believe in me. Thor, all of Asgard does not think I can do this," his eyes lock, green to blue, his voice barely a whisper, "I need you to, at least.”

The room is painfully quiet. They stare at each other, stare into each other, each searching. Loki, pleading for at least his brother to have faith in him. Thor, driven by his protective urges, desperate to keep his brother safe by his side. 

Finally, it is Thor that breaks away. He moves to sit on Loki’s bed, the green sheets soft, and hangs his head in defeat. Staring at the floor he sees Loki’s boots come into view, his brother standing in front of him, positioned between Thor’s spread legs. 

“Thor…” Loki starts, his hands going to move to cup his upset brother’s face, but before they get there Thor speaks.

“Promise me.”

The hands pause.

“What?”

Thor looks up, his face is resigned, but there is still determination in his eyes. A look Loki had not seen since they were children. It has a much finer place on Thor’s now grown face. “Promise me,” Thor repeats, reaching to grab one of the hands Loki had offered, taking it and pressing it to his cheek. 

“Thor, we are not children anymore-“

“I don’t care,” Thor shakes his head, “I do not care that we are no longer children. Do all of our lessons still not hold true? Promise me, brother, that you will return from Muspelheim whole,” he pauses, stares, “promise that you will return to me,” he finishes, almost inaudible. 

Loki considers his brother for a long moment, then lets out a breath that could almost be mistaken for a chuckle. He moves his hands once more to reach and cup Thor's face between them. He looks at the resolution in Thor’s eyes and closes his own, pressing his forehead to his brother’s. Thor also closes his eyes, moving his free hand to the back of Loki’s neck once again.

“I promise you that I will return in one piece.”

“A brother’s promise.”

“A brother’s promise.”

They stay like that, in their form of a comforting embrace, for a lost amount of time. Breathing, holding each other, still. Finally Loki straightens up, tells Thor it is late, and reminds him that they both have training the next day. Thor begrudgingly agrees and goes back to his bedchambers, where he promptly does not sleep until the light begins to tickle the very edge of Asgard and his exhaustion finally overtakes him.

He spends the next few weeks watching Loki train, and sleeping just as little.

He rests even less after Loki leaves with his warriors, too small a group in Thor’s opinion, and stays away for more than a month. Not a message, not a peep. It drives Thor insane. He paces the halls of the palace and when people begin to catch on to his unease he instead paces his room, spends his nights in Loki's, traces his fingers over the items beginning to collect a small amount of dust on his brother's desk. He spends hours on the balconies watching for movement on the horizon, he trains absentmindedly, and finally he does not train at all.

Finally, after what seemed to him like uncountable years but in truth was only a number of weeks, Loki returns, keeping his promise to Thor to return to him in one piece, but just barely. Loki comes home with almost all of his men, and with the uprising in Muspelheim quelled, but not without a price. Muspelheim is a realm of fire, and burns covered his chest, his back, and a majority of his left side. “Blindsided,” one of the warriors who helped him to the healing chambers said to Thor after he had rushed to his brother’s side and demanded he be seen immediately, “distracted and caught by a demon who slipped through the ranks in the last battle.” 

A mistake, a slip up, but there is always one. Battles can not be won until someone loses. Loki had powered through it, however, until it was all over.

There was much feasting that night. The halls were alive, filled with warriors from battle telling tales of their conquest, some of whom the exact ones that Thor had wanted to join when he was younger, but that night he was absent from the hall. Instead, he stood vigil in the healing chambers, by his brother’s side.

The single night that Loki was celebrated by all of Asgard was the one night neither him, nor his older brother, would be there to see it. 

(If you asked Loki, he would say that he didn’t care for such frivolous talk, just simply wished he wasn’t confined to the healers chambers, but if you listened carefully, you could hear the brothers’ laugh through the halls, and know that there was no place he would rather be, and no ones approval he would rather have.)

iii.

Years pass. Centuries.

The days in which Thor and Loki were brothers, could run around the great halls together, worried for nothing but the glory and beauty of battle and each other, were behind them. A ruined coronation. Secrets, revealed. Fraternity, shattered. 

Loki, falling away from him forever. Except it wasn’t forever, at least not until it was, but Thor didn’t know that quite yet. Mourning, more deep than Thor could ever imagine. Endless nights spent wishing, just for a single moment, to be able to touch his not-brother. His Loki. Just one last time.

Then word came. 

Loki, the traitor. Loki, the one who would have let Asgard fall to the Frost Giants. Loki, Laufeyson.

Loki, alive, and on Midgard.

Thor went to him without another word spoken.

Loki was changed. Thor had seen it in their youth, ignored it. Watched out of the corner of his eye as the seed of evil within Loki grew, overtook his brother, replaced the love in his heart with malice, replaced his smile with a sneer. He pretended not to see it. Pretended that it was just a rouse, a defense mechanism for the way that Asgard regarded him, even after his victory in Muspelheim, pretended that his Loki, soft, caring, was still there. But he was never around to check, always preoccupied with his battles, his training, his friends, he let his brother wither alone, and hundreds of years of slow decay tend to go unnoticed until it all falls apart.

Thor grew ever brighter and Loki ever darker, and it wasn’t until it was too late that Thor realized Loki was not simply stuck in his shadow, he had become it. They had moved to different sides of the coin, opposites, destined to be tied to each other but never as one, never together, not anymore. There is no light without shadow. There is no shadow without light. There was no Thor without Loki. There was no Loki without Thor.

Gods must be wary of what roles they step into.

New York City, in ruins. Avengers tower, destroyed. His brother, in chains.

It took a full day of Loki locked in the most maximum security cell that S.H.I.E.L.D. could provide, with only computer automated security that could not fall prey to his words or tricks, before Thor could bring himself to collect his brother, his debts, and leave for his home.

It only took a week more for Loki to escape from Asgard after he was brought there. Months later, with no sign of him anywhere, Thor would stand in his brother’s bedchambers, run his hands over the green sheets much as he did in their youth, the first and only time Loki left to lead battle. Once clean from constant shuffling, his brother's possessions were now so coated in dust you almost could not read the titles of the books anymore.

(And if servants heard muffled sobs echoing softly from Loki’s chambers on rare nights of importance, they said nothing of it.)

More years. Thor spent much of his time on Earth, with The Avengers. When his friends asked if he ever wanted to go home, when they pointed out that he had been on Earth for an incredibly long time, Thor simply said that Asgard was fine without him, and if they needed him, for battle or for throne, they would send word. And sometimes they did, but in the end Thor always returned to Midgard. He did not, could not, tell The Avengers that the halls of his home felt hollow, that sometimes he would think he could see Loki just turning a corner ahead of him, that he would run and turn the corner himself to be greeted by no familiar face, but an empty hall, that seemed to echo with laughter long since passed.

For Thor knew that what he saw was not his brother. For better or for worse, he knew where his brother was. Often, Loki would appear, in battle against The Avengers, copies of himself on the battle field, fighting alongside a villain from whom Loki always had something to gain. In a way, this is the second time Thor had to mourn his brother. It was almost harder knowing that he was alive, and never coming home, than dead, with no choice to.

Yes, Thor had convinced himself of this, but death has a way of following the ones who it has already brushed, and reminding old souls of it’s depths when they begin to think it a blessing.

Battlefields became the graveyards for every piece Thor he had to break of himself in order to fight his brother. 

He thought he understood.

He didn’t.

The third promise Loki makes to his brother is under completely different terms than the first two.

It is a sunny afternoon, and Tony is trying out a new theory. Waves, he called them, unlike those in Midgard’s great seas, but invisible. Disruptive. While they headed to the scene of the chaos, the Iron Man had tried to explain to Thor what was going to happen, to no avail. Words and phrases passed through Thor’s ears, seemingly in one and straight out the other. He caught some things, like “disrupting frequencies” and “studying so-called-magic” or “abilities like Earth-science” and “render powerless” but it did not mean much to him. Thor had not heard a word since they left New York.

The call came in that a villain that Thor has not yet faced himself, a man named Norman Osborn, was terrorizing Chicago (“I guess he got tired of the same schtick in NYC” Stark has said while they boarded the plane) but that was not what was distracting Thor. A second call had come in not a moment later, saying that Loki appeared to be helping with the destruction. Since then, he had been too in his head to listen, instead preparing himself for yet another battle with his not-brother.

When they arrived, it was madness, but The Avengers are nothing if not seasoned. They split into their usual groups. Captain America and Black Widow focused on civilian evacuation and defense. Hawkeye took his place on the roof, relaying information and taking out missed or overlooked targets, Hulk backed up Iron Man as they made their way to what Thor could only assume was Osborn, which left Thor with Loki. The Avengers had long since let Thor handle his brother alone, and alone he did.

The fighting was brutal. It was every time the two gods fought. Thunder, crashing loud all around, buildings toppling just from the force of their rage. They moved around each other, practiced, a result of being raised together, their power and energy flowing in ways that only two people who knew each other at their very cores could manage. Watching Thor and Loki fight could be compared to watching a train wreck, a building implode, and the eye of a hurricane all at the same time. It was as terrifying as it was beautiful.

The constant murmuring in his ear (a small device that Tony has insisted Thor use to communicate with the group) told Thor that the Iron Man was about to try out his new device.

“It’ll knock out Osborn’s rigs,” he heard, static and muffled through the ear piece, “and if we’re lucky it might knock Loki out of the game too,” the signal broke up, more static, “10 seconds hold your ears.”

Thor had just enough time to look at Loki, who was picking himself up out of the rubble that Thor has smashed him into, when a splitting screech pierced the air. Thor was prepared, he turned off his ear piece and held his ears, but it took Loki by surprise. The younger god’s face broke into pain that Thor could tell was not just from the sound, he dropped to his knees, holding his head, and let out a scream of agony that seemed to surge straight from Thor's ears into his heart and tear it open. 

Brotherly instinct that Thor had not felt in countless years suddenly flooded back into him like it had never left, took over his blood and his body in much less time than it took his brain to realize that he had launched himself at Loki, grabbed him, and was flying them out of the battlefield. 

After a moment he regained his sense, and they landed in another part of the city, ruined but already evacuated, and silent. Only the faintest ringing could be heard now, but Thor was unsure if that was in his ears or if he was really hearing it from that distance. As soon as their feet touched the ground, Loki pushed himself away from his former brother, gasping for air and stumbling for the closest thing to hold him up that was not Thor. He was shaking profusely, almost vibrating, but he steadied himself as much as he could.

Temporarily braced against a wall, Loki put forth his hand, intending to send a burst of seidr that would send Thor flying back enough to get him out of arms reach, and Thor brought up his hammer in preparation.

But nothing happened.

It took a moment for that to register with both of them, and their reactions were just as opposite as they themselves were. Thor lowered his hammer, put up his free hand in a motion that expressed no intent to harm, tried to show that he did not want to fight. Loki, however, in a manner not unlike a cornered, injured animal, took a dagger from the folds of his armor and launched himself at Thor, but it had been centuries since the last time Loki was able to best his brother in hand to hand combat, and, dropping his hammer, Thor disarmed and pinned him easily.

“Loki, _Loki_ -“ Thor tried to sooth, holding his brother to the floor much like when they would spar as children, “Loki, damnit, _stop_.”

“What did you _do to me_?” Loki spat back, using every ounce of strength he had left in his body to try to shove Thor off. He was weak from battle, and knew it was useless, but for the first time he can remember, Thor saw something akin to fear in his brothers eyes, and lifted himself off off Loki anyway, letting the former-prince of Asgard crawl backwards and take a more dignified stance a safe distance away, “what seidr is this, that can cancel my own?”

“It is not seidr, it is Stark’s technology,” Thor said slowly, putting his hands back up to show his intent for peace once again, leaving Mjölnir at his side, “it was intended to wipe out the other foe, but he warned it may effect you as well.”

Loki was silent at that, weighing his options, wishing he had not just lost his last blade. It occurred to him that without his seidr he could not make a hasty getaway at right about the same time it occurred to Thor that these were the most words he had spoken with his brother in years. So, it was Thor who was first to speak again.

“Brother,” he said softly, and that was his mistake.

He saw the anger flare in Loki in a split second, saw his calculating features be taken over by rage, twist them into shapes that Thor hated, that he couldn’t help but think looked wrong on such a glorious face as the dark haired god’s.

“I.” Loki said, his voice raised, taking a step towards Thor, who lifted his arms higher, trying to stumble back over his words, “Am. _Not_.” Loki continued, within arms reach now, “Your. _Brother_.” With the final word came a shove so forceful Thor would not have believed it came from Loki if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes. Even without seidr, the hulking god flew back several feet before hitting the floor with a loud thud, a broken piece of concrete jamming into his back. 

Before he could think, Loki was on top of him, having retrieved the blade that Thor had broken from his grasp not but a few moments ago. The sharp metal of the dagger bore into the flesh of his neck, cutting enough to draw blood but not enough to kill. Loki held the blade in one hand, the other had a firm and painful grasp of the hair at the top of Thor’s head, keeping their eyes locked and his head straight. “Loki-“ Thor tried to say, but a firmer press of the blade to his neck stopped the words in his throat.

“No,” Loki hissed, “no, you lumbering, small brained oaf, I have listen to your foolish nonsense for too long, too many years, centuries of nothing else, but today you listen to _me_.”

Thor was silent, Loki continued. “I was never your brother. I was a prize won from war that your damned father Odin gave his golden son to play with until I grew enough for him to have use of me,” Loki was leaning so close to him that Thor could feel his hot, angry breath, “I was never of Asgard, I was never your blood. Every year that I tried to shift myself into what Odin,” he spat the name, “what Asgard, what _you_ wanted me to be, was a year I spent in agony, tormented by my inability to be what was required of me, and they just let me suffer. They knew that I would never be a true Asgardian, they knew I was never your brother, yet they were perfectly fine letting me wither, trying to become something they knew I could never realize.”

Loki had a rage in his eyes that Thor had never seen before, mixed with a deep, red pain, and it was heartbreaking to see. Loki had never told him any of this this. Yes, Thor had learned of his true parentage after he had returned from Midgard, but he had been blind to the years Loki had spent suffering. He understood how finding out that he was a Jötun could take every time he had ever felt out of place and give him justification for the hatred in his heart. However, Thor’s contemplation was cut short when Loki began to speak again, this time leaning so close to Thor that he could feel every exhale his (not) brother released. 

“So this is who I am. I am Loki, god of mischief, I am Loki, god of evil, I am Loki, born of Jötunheim, I am Loki, who killed Laufey,” his voice raised with each statement, until he was yelling in Thor’s face, “I am Loki, who betrayed Asgard, I am Loki, who belongs in no place or time, I am Loki, and I am many things, but one thing I certainly am not, and never will be, is _your brother_.”

With the last word, Loki abruptly stands, the blade of his dagger digging deeper before it releases the pressure on Thor’s throat, leaving behind a thin line of blood. He begins to walk away when Thor himself stands. He looks after Loki’s retreating frame, still hunched, the slightest hint of a limp, and is suddenly struck with an anger of his own.

“You may not be my brother now, but were you not once so?” Thor states, his voice deep. Powerful. Stern. The voice of a king. Any hesitance he had before melted away. Loki hears it and stills in his tracks, “I have listened to you, now you will listen to me. You can not erase history, Loki. You may run from our past but you can never undo it. We were brothers, once. We laughed, we played, we battled side by side, we spent nights-“

“Enough!” was the word that erupted from Loki, spinning on his heel but staying in his same place for a moment before walking forward. Thor took note that he suddenly seemed to recover from the limp or was now ignoring it, but he did not dwell on the thought. Loki stopped an arms length away from Thor, and for the first time, they both realized how old they had truly become. Not a single hint of their youth was left. Thor looked at least ten centirues old and Loki looked no better.

( _Look at what we’ve done to each other, brother,_ Thor thinks, but doesn’t speak)

“If there is one thing that you should know,” Loki steps toward him, menacingly closing the distance between them, but Thor does not budge, he holds the stance of a king as Loki comes right to his face, unfaltering in his own gaze, “if there is a single, solitary thing that can get through the skull that houses what you can try to pass for a brain, let it be this.”

“The brother that you knew on Asgard, the brother that adored you like a foolish child, is dead. He is gone, never to return. This, Thor Odinson,” he pauses, carefully choosing his next words, “this, I can promise you.”

Before Thor can react, before he can say a single word, there is a flash, and Loki is gone. 

There is no more ringing in his ears.

—-

Time passes, and Thor does his best to push his brother from his mind. It helps that, for some reason, Loki has been a (sorely un-missed by The Avengers) absence on the battle field. 

Then again, there have been many presences absent from their usual battlefields. Actually, there had been almost no battlefields at all.

Tony boasts about how nice it is so have a vacation, Natasha and the rest of The Avengers keep themselves busy with S.H.I.E.L.D. cases that don’t revolve around super villains.

But Thor senses that something is wrong. It is not peace, he thinks, peace would put him at ease. The lack of villain activity is not a lack at all.

It’s the ocean clearing of fish when there is a shark nearby. It is the forest, clearing of animals before an earthquake. No, the last eight months of silence is not peace, it is calm. The calm before the storm. 

He knows the storm has come when he is informed that Loki has pinged on S.H.I.E.L.D. surveillance in Boston, something he has not done since his time in Germany, when he intended to lure The Avengers to him. However, humans are inclined to repeat their pasts, so Iron Man and Captain America go to retrieve him. Thor stays behind.

He knows his brother is not there.

He pours over the footage, a scant ten seconds, but those seconds tell him more than he needs to know. Loki is thinner than he was before, dressed in Midgardian clothing, baggy, ill fitting. His hair is slicked back, but many strands find their way free. His face is gaunt, and tired. In the footage, he appears from behind a building, walks right in front of the camera which S.H.I.E.L.D. had their surveillance set up, constantly checking behind him, as if he is followed, rounds a corner, and vanishes.

With no surprise to Thor, Steve and Tony return with no Loki and no leads. No one seemed to have seen him, and he didn’t enter any of the businesses around the corner from where he turned and was lost from view.

Thor wonders, and worries, what has happened that Loki should slip up in such a way. He entertains the thought, distantly, of if it was purposeful, trying to send him some message, but shakes that idea out of his head. 

Loki is not his brother. Loki does not care. Loki said so himself. Loki promised him.

Whatever it is that has drained his former brother of his physical health is what must have made him slip up, he rationalizes, but begins more daily training and sparring regardless.

Thor’s uneasiness had put the rest of The Avengers on edge as well. Tony had started to stay up at night, tweaking his suits, Natasha religiously cleaned her weapons, Thor and Steve sparred every day, Clint stocked up on new arrows, and Bruce got a flight back to NYC as suggested (and paid for) by Tony. They were all preparing, in their own ways, for something, but for what none of them knew. 

Three weeks later, Thanos attacks New York.

When they get to the battlefield, Loki is at his side.

The Avengers split, as usual, to their strongest roles, but something this time is different. Loki’s normal battle strategy of multiplying himself, creating both distractions and more fighters, has been left by the wayside. Instead he charges straight for Thor, constantly pushing him back with seidr, stabbing, jabbing, allowing for much more movement than their battles usually contained, but there was something else wrong. Loki was missing. His fatigue, even more prevalent in person than it was on security footage, made him slow, made him sloppy, but if Thor was paying close attention, he could swear that his brother’s hand was turning at the last minute, a deliberate move.

Soon, however, battle strategy left his mind, as Thanos decided to focus on him instead of the Hulk and Iron Man, who had been charging at him with full force just a moment before. Once Thor caught his eye, Thanos paid no attention to the others, almost as if they were flies.

“Ah, Son of Odin,” Thanos’ deep voice boomed, an involuntary shiver running down Thor’s spine, “a most worthy gift for my love.”

When Thanos charged, Loki at least had the sense to move. Thor’s focus instantly shifted from his (not) brother to the warrior in front of him, and did not shift again. Occasionally he would see glances, out of the corner of his eye, of green fighting with blue, or black. Always close, for a reason that Thor could not place, nor had the time to think about.

Their battle was, for the most part, incredible by any standards. Where Thor and Loki’s battles played out almost like a dance, Thor and Thanos battled like two beasts in an arena. Thor was a god, but Thanos may as well have been also. Their strength was almost evenly matched, but Thanos was half a foot taller and double his weight. The two shared blow after blow, neither titan seeming to be able to knock down the other. It was the sort of battle that could rage for years, if no one slipped up.

But this was not a children’s tale where battles could last centuries, and someone _always_ slips up.

This day, it was the God of Thunder.

It was a stupid mistake. Thor had heard a crash behind him that sounded like the Iron Man going down. His attention split for just a second, just enough to see that it was not Stark, but a part of a building that had been blown off and flew to land behind him, but that split second if a distraction was enough. 

Thanos let lose a blast of energy that hit Thor directly in the right shoulder, his arm went limp, it dropped Mjölnir, the burning of his skin made the god let out a shout of agony, and he had just a second more to realize that Thanos was already throwing another attack straight at him. There was no time to think, no time to move, Thor closed his eyes and felt an immense pressure and pain hit his chest with a force that knocked him back at least a full city block, but something was wrong. The pain was not searing, the pressure too spread across his body. 

He opened his eyes, rolled his head, forced himself to sit up, look around, asses his surroundings. He was in a crater, that much he knew, but when he turned his head to the left, what he saw made bile rise to his throat and threaten to spill over.

Five feet away from him, face pale and blank, body broken and bloody, lay Loki. His green eyes were glassy, and stared into the sky, unseeing. His torso, almost every inch of him, was covered in blood, his armor ripped through to expose seared flesh, a hole where his stomach should be.

“No,” Thor said, in shock, almost quiet. It was the only sound he heard. There was ringing in his ears, the world seemed to stand absolutely still, frozen in place, nothing else but him and what he was seeing in front of him. He used to have nightmares about Loki dying in battle, where he was stuck, unable to help, but none of them could even compare to this. Time had stopped, but then Thor’s body began to move, and his voice became loud, frantic as the world came back into focus around him, “No, no no no, Loki, _Loki_ ,” he crawled to his brother, took his pale face in his hands, positioned himself as on top of Loki's broken body as he could muster.

“Loki, _Loki_ , by the norns please, answer me, _Loki_ ,” he begged, but it fell on deaf ears. Loki’s eyes didn’t move, could not see his brother. Blood was soaked through Loki’s raven hair where it fell to the ground, it soaked into Thor’s leggings, his cape, his hands, none of which he noticed. All he could see was his brother’s face. All he could hear was their voices, children, ringing through his head.

_“I don’t make mistakes in combat.”_

No, no no no no, not like this. It was not supposed to be like this.

_“You know you shouldn’t say such things, mother will chastise you for it.”_

They were so young, he didn’t know, but Loki always knew. Loki _always_ knew.

_“But it’s true.”_

It _was_ a warning. It was a ruse. The reason Loki looked so tired, the reason he tried to push Thor from the battlefield, the reason he didn’t injure him. 

_“One day it may not be.”_

“Oh, Loki, you fool,” Thor sobbed. Drops of Thor’s blood fell on Loki’s face, dripped down his cheek, settled in his hair, and all Thor wanted to do was to have his brother wipe it away, chastise him for getting him dirty, tell him to go clean himself up. All Thor wanted, all Thor had ever wanted, was his brother, safe, and with him at his side, but all he could do now was cling tightly to Loki’s empty frame, and in shuddering whispers repeat “but you _promised_ ,” as if it was a chant that could bring Loki back, as if the idea of a brother’s promise being broken could retrieve him from Hel itself, but it did nothing, because they were no longer children, and what were promises but simple words to a liesmith?

(Drops of water hit Loki’s face next to the blood, and Thor told himself it was just the rain falling, but he had never been the better liar.)

Around them and in the distance, the battle raged on.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this artwork by wantstobelieve](http://wantstobelieve.tumblr.com/post/16424963917) and the title is from this quote from Lauren Oliver’s  _Delirium Stories:_  
>  _“What glitters may not be gold; and even wolves may smile; and fools will be led by promises to their deaths.”_
> 
>    
> Also inspired by a quote from Melodie Ramone's _After Forever Ends, "It seems unnatural being raised together and then dying apart."_
> 
> [Now with an illustration by the ever talented mrhiddles!](http://mrhiddlesart.tumblr.com/post/86471453414/flat-color-commission-for-ashley-from-their-fic)


End file.
